Hide and Seek
by singingminstrel
Summary: ONESHOT, may make a story out of it. Elizabeth is forced against her better judgment to engage in a game of Hide and Seek with her younger sisters as they elude Mr. Collins. Unfortunately Elizabeth encounters a completely different man on her ramblings..


"Oh, Lizzy! You cannot believe how Mr. Bingley's sudden quittance of Netherfield has beaten my poor nerves to the raw bone!"

Indeed Lizzy had, for it was two months since the gentleman's absence. Jane had lately gone to London to stay with their aunt and uncle, and Elizabeth and her sisters remained at Longbourn.

But the weather was damp, and it was pronounced a poor day for walking to Merryton, and so Mrs. Bennet could neither gossip with the other ladies nor peruse the shops to look over the merchandise. Her only recourse, other than to listen to Mr. Collins, was to forcibly extract pity from her daughters.

"Oh! if he only knew how this affects me so, he should not have left. And Jane! Poor Jane, the prettiest of my daughters, will be condemned to an unhappy life of spinsterhood!"

Ah, spinsterhood: it was the worst kind of status in life according to Mrs. Bennet, far worse even than scandal and (Elizabeth thought this with a smile) preferable to death itself.

"Where are my salts? Lizzy, have my salts brought to me, I implore you. I shall faint if..."

But Elizabeth was not paying attention and instead went to the library. It was a place of refuge for her and for her father, who was there at the moment.

"Hello, sir," she greeted him with a slight sigh, and promptly sank into a chair. She soon discovered Mary, lounging in a two-seat with a book in her hand.

"Hello, Lizzy."

"Hello, Mary," she said wearily. "What are you reading?"

"Shhh!" Lydia hushed her older sister, and to Elizabeth's surprise her two youngest sisters were crowded behind a bookcase.

"Lydia, Kitty! What on earth—?" she said in wonder; those two were the least likely of the Bennets to set foot in the library! With a wry smile she inquired, "Have you found a book about _officers_, then?"

"Papa, do you have books about officers here?" Lydia asked, astonished. "I never heard anyone mention them."

Mary gave a scornful look at her sister as she returned to her book. She liked peace and quiet while she read, and while light conversation was not disliked, she despised inane talk from Lydia and Kitty. It always had a way of disrupting her concentration.

"Indeed not, Lydia," said Mr. Bennet, "and I bid you keep quiet, as you have constantly told _me_ for the past half hour, and with altogether much too impertinence. Apparently my wish to converse with my daughters about their reading is taboo in this household."

"You are reading, then?" Elizabeth eyed her two youngest sisters with suspicion.

Lydia could not help but give a merry peal of laughter. "La, of course not, Lizzy! But I really must keep by voice in check; or else _he_ will be upon us like plague on the Hebrews!"

"Egyptians," Mr. Bennet dryly corrected his daughter. "I believe the Hebrews and their animals were the only ones _spared_."

"But who?" Elizabeth asked, looking at their faces.

This time Mary put aside her book and answered in exasperation. "From _Mr. Collins_, of course!" she exclaimed vehemently.

Elizabeth was taken aback. So, they were all cozily holed up in here, while leaving her to fend for herself with their mother?

"I thought you did not mind Mr. Collins." She addressed this to Mary. "After all, he is the only one of us well-versed in Fordyce's Sermons, and you are always looking to converse about the subject."

Mary's look was one of disdain. "Upon further reflection, I have decided that it is best to keep to oneself if the alternative is to be with company from which one cannot benefit the mind nor spirit; and Mr. Collins is a most insensible man, and I cannot appreciate his opinions for they reek of condescending preaching and not of equal debate."

Elizabeth was impressed with Mary's condemnation of the learned parson, and further impressed that she found Kitty's and Lydia's company preferable to Mr. Collins's. Still, she cautioned gently, "You might be lonely if you think that all the time, Mary; we all need other people. Though certainly I can see your reasoning."

At this time there came a polite knock at the door and each member of the party involuntarily drew a sharp breath.

"Mr. Bennet," came the voice of their valet; and they sighed in relief.

"Yes?"

"Mrs. Bennet would like to speak with you, sir. She says she is most ailed and troubled by—"

"—her nerves, yes, thank you; tell her I will see her in a moment."

"And Mr. Collins has been looking for you, sir. Forgive me, should I inform him that you are back from your morning travels?"

"No, not yet, thank you. In a quarter of an hour you may tell him I will be at his disposal in the library, but for now no one is here."

Their manservant bowed. "As you wish, sir."

Elizabeth stared at her father in amazement. "'Morning travels'? You are having our servant purposely deceive Mr. Collins, sir?"

Her father only sighed a deep sigh and shifted his weight in his chair. "When you are my age, Lizzy, you will come to treasure every moment of personal time—even if it means instructing your servant to tell falsehoods to your guests and spouse. But," he continued gravely, "unless you would like to be here when your cousin arrives, I suggest you contain your hiding to the outside." Lydia, Kitty, and Elizabeth, who could not have made a more agreeable suggestion, lept up from their chairs (and the floor) and rushed outside. Even Mary laid aside her book and hurriedly joined them.

Kitty and Lydia were doubled over in laughter as soon as they were outside the house and out of earshot. Elizabeth could not help suppressing a rueful smile. "To think," she said, "that we've been forced out of doors by our cousin. We are cowards indeed."

"But how shall we amuse ourselves?" Lydia questioned, for amusement was the chief occupation of her time.

Kitty brightened. "I know! We shall play Hide and Seek."

Elizabeth could not help but laugh and Kitty turned a dull red.

"I'm sorry, Kitty, it is just that we haven't played since we were children," Elizabeth said contritely.

"Well, I think 'tis a fine idea," spoke Lydia boldly, "and I shall be the Seeker first! Now, commence the hiding, I say!"

"You cannot be serious."

"Oh, Lizzy, do not be such a bore. You are not so much older than the rest of us, even if you like to think so. I say it shall be very amusing, but if you think yourself too boring, then you may sit out."

"I am not boring," Lizzy protested.

"Come on," Lydia egged her on, pulling at her dress. Finally Elizabeth was forced to give her consent.

"You, too, Mary," Kitty said as the other girl started to shy away from the area.

"Yes, Mary," Elizabeth said with a merry laugh. "If I am to be made to feel foolish, so should you. Come on, now!"

And finally even Mary was persuaded. "While I dislike foolish games, I daresay it might prove worthwhile to make observations of—"

Lydia rudely interrupted with a loud count of, "One! Two! Three!..." and the girls scampered to find places to hide.

Kitty was already running towards the mill in a most unladylike display, and even Mary had abandoned all reason as she practically flew towards the small orchard. Elizabeth turned around for a moment to implore her sister, "For heaven's sake, Lydia! Keep your voice down!" It was not only Mr. Collins she wanted to keep from herself but the unwanted attention from any neighbors who happened to call. She knew she would feel foolish if Charlotte, dear Charlotte, happened to chance upon them all running and hiding. Charlotte was always so level-headed and sensible. _Like I was before I joined this game._ But for all Elizabeth's embarrassment, she was secretly delighted, not having played the game in years—there was something so exciting about finding a secretive place and waiting in terror for someone to catch her.

Elizabeth settled herself inside the curtain of the weeping willow branches and was found in minutes. "Honestly, Lizzy, that's the most obvious place to look!" Lydia said.

Elizabeth, determined to prove she was not boring, mentally chastised herself and secretly swore she would find a better place next time. But now it was her turn to do the Seeking.

She counted behind a tree, giving her sisters ample time to scatter about. Then she set off.

She was a very admirable Seeker despite her failings at hiding; and within less than a quarter of an hour she had found both Kitty and Mary. Lydia came out soon afterwards.

They were laughing over each other's silliness, and even Mary was guffawing against her will in a most unMary-like display. Mary was chosen to the be the next Seeker just when they spied Mr. Collins coming out of the house.

They were partially concealed by the rather thick bushes, but it would not be for long.

"What shall we do?" whispered Kitty.

"We shall hide," Lydia giggled in a low voice. "..._and Mr. Collins shall have to Seek us!_"

They could not help but laugh at the picture of Mr. Collins unknowingly engaging in a game of hide and seek. Elizabeth felt a little sorry that he was made the butt of so many jokes; but after all, his obsequious and yet prideful manner had brought it upon himself.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Lydia said impatiently. "Obviously he's not going to count—he's already out and about looking. Hide!"

They set off.

"First one found has to sit next to him at dinner!" Lydia whispered loudly as they separated.

Though at first the kept away from the house, Elizabeth doubled back behind their home and decided to hide in the gardens. After all, if Mr. Collins had already checked them he was sure not to check twice.

The garden was one of her favorite places. She delighted in seeing the dragonsnaps, the white lillies, the daffodils in full bloom, the shrubbery... Her previous hiding spot had been carelessly chosen indeed, but she was sure she would not be found here. Yes, the garden seemed an obvious spot for concealing oneself, but Elizabeth was crouched low behind some impressively tall flowers that formed a sort of wall around her. A tree's branches stooped just low enough to give her shade, and to block her from view. From the right angle, it would look as if the tree branches met the flowers, and a careless Seeker would dismiss the spot and not venture farther for closer observation. In fact, she was really only in danger of being seen by her mother, for her spot was right below the window of their sitting room—though she doubted Mrs. Bennet would peer outside when she was at present still absorbed in her own-self pity and occupied with her smelling salts.

Elizabeth seemed to wait there for an unbearably long time. She wished she were hiding with someone so that they might amuse each other.

She could hear her mother talking loudly with her father. The window was open and she realized that the gardens were a perfect place for an eavesdropper. She noted to talk softly of any private matters with Jane when they were in the sitting room with the window open.

"And all you do is skulk about in that library! Mr. Bennet, I have been looking for you for some time now, and Lizzy as well! You see, Mr. Collins has declared his wishes to be joined with Lizzy in matrimony—"

Her scalp pricked as footsteps sounded among the garden paths. She froze, unable to move at all. The footsteps were heavy on the cobblestone and stopped a short distance from her. Stopped. This person had heard the voices of her parents as well, and probably was too embarrassed to walk in front of the window in plain view, lest they think he or she had heard all.

"Indeed?" Elizabeth perceived the alarm in her father's voice, and then noted the immediate relaxation. "Well, she may do what she wishes; you hardly need me to give Mr. Collins my consent. It is her decision."

"Of course, Mr. Bennet; but your blessing might have encouraged him a little."

"I hardly think he is lacking in that regard, Madam."

Mrs. Bennet was all impatience. "And so what? There is nothing the matter with an eager man, I say. Indeed, Mr. Bennet, you forget that as soon as you are six feet in your grave we will be turned out of the house, if one of my daughters does not marry Mr. Collins! And now Jane has lost Mr. Bingley, and my poor nerves, oh!" Mrs. Bennet moaned.

"Yes, your poor nerves," Elizabeth's father muttered.

"I had hoped you might tell me where Lizzy is, anyhow. She seems to be _hiding_. Mr. Collins and I have searched the house, and she is nowhere to be found! She did not walk into Merryton? She did not ask permission!"

"She might be in Scotland, for all I know. Now if you'll excuse me, I must get back to my record-keeping in my study..."

Elizabeth was aware that her father had walked out of the room, for now she could hear her mother calling after him. She breathed heavily. Mr. Collins, coming out to propose to her! It was indeed a good thing that she had hid herself!

She had been almost lying down behind the flowers, and now she sat up into a sort of crouch, confident that her mother and father would not be aware of her presence.

And then—

"_Miss Bennet?_" a clearly shocked voice came and Elizabeth belatedly remembered the stranger in the garden. She had exposed herself from her hiding spot.

The voice sounded all too familiar. _Oh God, no, it can't be **him**!_

But it was. Elizabeth was suddenly aware of her position, crouched behind a bed of high flowers, with Mr. Darcy's face looming above her. His face showed he registered an enormous amount of surprise; _her_ face was rapidly turning a brilliant shade of scarlet.

She was deeply mortified. God himself could not have picker a better person in that whose presence she would feel humiliated upon being found. It was too horrible! Inasmuch so far, she had never given him cause to doubt her sense of propriety, feeling the shame as her younger sisters and mother brought about the talk of the country. Now, however, she appeared to be the definition of ridiculousness. Oh why, _why_ had she allowed herself to be drawn into Lydia's absurd games?

To make matters worse, he had probably thought she was listening to her parents' conversation and was hiding under the window for that purpose.

"I-I—" she sputtered; but she could not begin to explain herself. She took a deep breath. "Mr. Darcy," she greeted him unsteadily, aware of how disheveled and wild she must look.

"Are you—tending to the garden?" Mr. Darcy asked, still aghast; but now he was trying to provoke her. _Insufferable man!_

"No, sir, I was hiding."

She could have kicked herself for this admission. Why did she never stop to _think_ before she spoke!

"Hiding?" he repeated, his countenance completely serious. "Yes, of course. From—"

She knew instantly that he meant to say, _From your cousin, _but he did not finish his thought; even he was too well-bred of a man to repeat the conversation and suggest she was hiding from the man who wished to propose to her.

She was extremely flustered and red-cheeked in irritation. She felt she must straighten out a few things, namely the fact that she was not hiding from Mr. Collins, having had no awareness of his intentions until just moments ago. "Sir," she began in a rush, "I did not intend to listen to my mother and father's conversation. I just happened to be here..." she took a deep breath. "...and at the risk of giving my place away in—in the _game_, I could not speak up."

"I do not understand, Miss Bennet; your 'place'?"

At that moment Mr. Collins appeared, with a sour Lydia and Kitty in tow. "There you are, my fair cousin!" the man exclaimed right away. "I found your sisters behind the willow tree—"

Elizabeth glanced at Lydia, who returned stonily, "Well, just because _I_ know all the good hiding spots, I did not expect Mr. Collins to know!"

"Hiding spot?" Mr. Collins was confused.

"Yes," Lydia said in a huff. "We were having a perfectly good game at hide and seek until you came out—"

"—and then we decided to make _you_ the Seeker!" Kitty cheerfully chimed in, and Elizabeth could have died. She wished the earth might swallow her whole so that she did not have to bear this embarrassment. Embarrassment for herself, for her sisters, for Mr. Collins...and all in front of Mr. Darcy. How the situation must appear to him! And that he had overheard her parents' indelicate conversation!

But Mr. Collins did not seem overly offended; he did not perceive that the sisters had deliberately wanted to be hidden—to stay hidden—from him, and left it to the silliness of young girls. Though this behavior was somewhat surprising for his cousin Elizabeth, he thought.

"That is a good spot, Lizzy," Lydia remarked, beaming. "I should never have found you!—nor Mr. Collins," she added with a pulled-face behind their cousin's back, "if was not for Mr. Darcy, it seems."

"Well, it would appear that Mr. Darcy is an admirable Seeker, then," Elizabeth murmured acidly. Her mood was spoiled.

She stole a look at the unpleasant man who had found her, seeing how he had digested the scene. Even before her eyes met his face she knew what to expect: derision, mocking, and disgust at the impropriety of grown young women playing _hide and seek_.

To her utter amazement, Mr. Darcy smiled a ridiculous smile that seemed to be spreading from ear to ear despite his obvious attempts to keep himself controlled. Then, he did a most extraordinary thing: he laughed.

It began as an almost dignified chuckle—well, really, she couldn't have expected anything other—and then grew louder, and turned into complete mirthful laughter. The transformation of his face was incredible: his countenance no longer appeared severe, and the usual scowl was gone, replaced by a gleeful smile; and for all that he was trying to quell his outburst, his shoulders were shaking with the hilarity of the situation.

He did not have command of speech, after that. He could not even muster a word of goodbye as he backed out of the garden path—still laughing—and turned to head back to his carriage without even fulfilling whatever purpose he had at Longbourn, leaving the rest stupefied. Even Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, having been drawn to the sitting room window by the noise, were looking on with incredulity in their expressions.

"I declare I have never seen that sour Mr. Darcy look so changed!" Mrs Bennet exclaimed.

Elizabeth could not believe it either. The proper and haughty Mr. Darcy, _laughing_ at their childish game? She wondered if he had played in his youth, if it reminded him of happy times. She tried to imagine him as a boy, and found it almost impossible. Perhaps she could draw a face in her mind, with dimples and a wide smile, laughing. As she lay in her bed later that night, she mused that perhaps a man who found pleasure and humor in such a display was not all that bad.


End file.
